


No Matter When I Am, I Love You

by Omni



Series: Prompts from Tumblr [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Corny, M/M, Nymphs & Dryads, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, Pining Derek, Pining Stiles, Time Travel, Young Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 02:27:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1727747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omni/pseuds/Omni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of his family's tragic death, Derek can't possibly believe he'll ever recover from the pain.  When he's given an unexpected chance to view a future supposedly filled with happiness, all he finds is himself as a stubborn fool who refuses to admit he's in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Matter When I Am, I Love You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MemeKon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MemeKon/gifts).



> This was supposed to be a ficlet, in response to a prompt I received on tumblr. Somehow it turned into something slightly bigger than a ficlet... And so cheesy. Oh my god. I'm sorry.

"Such pain," murmured a woman's voice in a soothing purr. Derek looked up from where he'd been curled in on himself on the damp forest floor and glanced around in alarm. It wasn't _her_ voice, but he could have heard wrong. 

Eyes blazing bright blue, he uncurled himself and rose to his feet in a defensive stance. "Who's there?" he yelled, trying to sound intimidating instead of broken.

A woman seemed to detach herself from the shadowy trees and step into the dim light of the little clearing. Her hair flickered and twitched about her like leaves in the wind, and the fabric of her gossamer dress slithered along her dark skin with all the shades of the forest. "Why do you hurt, child?"

Derek tried not to bristle at the term. He may only be seventeen, but he felt so much older. “They’re dead,” he managed to say past a choked throat. Derek knew better than to lie to this woman who wasn’t a woman--because she wasn’t a human at all. She cocked her head and regarded him with white-less, pupil-less eyes of shifting spring greens. “She used me,” he explained, feeling almost relieved to share the horrible secret. “She used me to kill them all.”

The not-woman cooed sympathetically and stepped closer to place a bony, long-fingered hand to his cheek. Her skin was surprisingly rough and her touch cool. “Your heart bleeds out,” she whispered softly, and the trees around them seemed to rustle in echo. “But blood, like sap, hardens and the wound heals.”

He didn’t think this wound could ever heal. Already he felt so empty, hollowed out with crude tools until he was nothing but a crumbling shell left out to rot. She seemed to sense his thoughts, and her fingers scraped carefully across his cheek. “You doubt my words. When you have grown as old as I, you will see all that was and all that will be. Everything moves in cycles, child. There is pain and pleasure, grief and bliss. For all that you feel hollow now, you shall someday overflow with love and happiness.”

“No,” he insisted, shaking his head and stumbling back and away. There was no way he would ever allow someone to get close like Kate had, not ever again. 

“Children never listen,” she sighed, thin arm slowly falling back to her side. “They must be shown.”

Derek blinked and she was gone. Something seemed...off, though. The surrounding brush was different, the clearing made smaller by their advancing growth. Confused and feeling ill at ease, Derek began to make his way out of the woods and back to town where he and his sister were staying in a hotel until all of the legal and funeral arrangements were wrapped up. Nothing felt right, though, the scents were all changed in subtle ways. When the wind picked up at one point, he could have sworn he smelled other werewolves having recently been in the area. Strangers. Yet, something about them made him think of Pack.

He picked up his pace, heart racing as worry pumped through his veins. As soon as he burst out of the trees and onto the main road, a blaring horn nearly deafened him. Then there was sharp pain and darkness.

\----

“Oh shit! Oh fuck! That wasn’t my fault. Scott, you saw that wasn’t my fault.” Stiles practically fell out of his Jeep in his haste to get to the guy he’d just brained with his grill. “Is he dead?” 

Scott was right behind him in reaching the body sprawled across the pavement, and he was careful in how he touched and inspected the guy. “No, I think he’s breathing. He should be--” Scott’s words cut short as they both watched the guy’s visible wounds start to stitch themselves back together. “Holy shit.”

Stiles sagged in relief. “Oh, thank god. He’s got your magical insta-heal powers.” No jail for Stiles! Hell yes!

The guy grunted and rolled over onto his back, blinking open eyes that were a distractingly pretty shade. A familiar shade, actually… Stiles choked and scrambled back to look at the guy in full. Messy black hair? Check. Eyebrows made for scowling? Check. Cute bunny teeth? Stiles leaned closer again to try to get a good look as the guy opened his mouth a little in a cringing groan. Yep, check on the bunny teeth. _Fuck_.

This person may be a little shorter, a little smaller in build without all the muscle bulk, but he was definitely Derek.

Scott gave him a weird look even as he helped Little Derek sit up. “Stiles, what’s wrong? Your heart is going crazy.”

“You can hear his heart, too?” Little Derek asked, trying to twist his head around to give Scott a curious look. 

That served to effectively distract Scott, and he smiled at Little Derek. “Yep. I’m like you, dude.”

Suddenly Little Derek was scrambling out of Scott’s grasp, turning around and all but growling at them as he eyed them both warily. “Who are you, and what are you doing in Hale territory?”

As Scott started in with confused exclamations of inquiry, Stiles held up his hands to show he meant no harm and calmly said, “Derek. Calm down.”

Scott whipped his head around to goggle at Stiles, yelping a “ _Derek_?”

At the same time, Little Derek focused his narrowed eyes squarely on Stiles and snapped, “How do you know my name?”

“Because I know you. The you that you grow up to be.”

Little Derek glanced between them, then back at the woods with uncertainty. “What year is this?”

“2013.” When Little Derek looked back at him skeptically, Stiles fumbled out his phone and held it out for Little Derek to have a look for himself. “See? The date on the screen says it’s 2013.”

“What is that?” Little Derek asked, stepping closer to inspect it. “I’ve never seen a cellphone like that.”

“Ah, yeah, no, it’s a pretty new model. Just came out last year.” Stiles watched Little Derek look from the glowing screen and back to the woods. “Were you running from something?”

“What?” Little Derek snapped his attention back to Stiles, eyes wide and looking so fucking young. He had to be about the same age as Stiles, but something about him looked so innocent and fragile that Stiles wanted to just wrap him up in a fluffy blanket and hide him away from the Big Bad World. “No. I… There were scents of other werewolves…”

“Me and my pack,” Scott said softly, staring at Derek with an awe he tried to cover up with assurance and authority. “I’m the current alpha of Beacon Hills.”

“I think you should come with us,” Stiles said hurriedly, once he saw Derek start to put pieces together and realize what that meant in regards to Laura. “We’ll take you to...um...you.”

“Wait, you think that’s a good idea?” Scott asked. “What about the space-time continuum?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I’m sure we’ll manage. C’mon, Derek. You can ride shotgun, and Mr. Alpha here can fret over quantum theories in the back seat.”

When they all loaded up into the Jeep, Little Derek paused, his back stiffening and hand frozen where he had clipped the buckle into place. “My scent is in here.”

Stiles gave him a tilted smile and fired up his baby. “Considering how often you make me cart your ass around, I wouldn’t doubt it.”

Little Derek kept staring at him the entire drive into town, but Stiles tried not to let that bother him. His face felt a bit hot, but he’d totally blame that on the California weather.

\----

Derek had to admit that the loft apartment was kind of cool, if a little stark and impersonal. It was definitely a far cry from the warmth and comfort of his family home. It seemed to suit his future self, though. 

“How come I don’t remember this happening to me?” his older self asked Stiles, the both of them standing away from him and Scott as if that could prevent eavesdropping. “And how did you even know it’s me?” His older self glanced over at him before going back to scowling at Stiles. 

“He looks like you,” Stiles said simply, arms crossed and dark eyes narrowed in thought instead of anger. “Has your eyes and teeth.”

“My--” Older Derek seemed taken aback by that, expression softening and gaze flicking over Stiles’ face as if looking at something confusing in its greatness. 

Stiles didn’t seem to notice the expression, however, too busy staring off into space as he tapped his finger against his bottom lip in thought. “As to why you don’t remember...maybe something will happen to make you forget? Or maybe this event created an alternate timeline? Not sure. We could call Lydia; she has a few books on the subject.”

“How do we send him back?” Scott asked, evidently done with letting the other two exclude them. 

“We don’t even know how he got here, Scott, how can we--”

“A woman. In the woods. I thought she was a dryad of some sort, but I didn’t know they had power like this…”

Stiles tilted his head and walked away from Derek’s older self to approach him. “I thought you said you weren’t running from anything but the strange wolf smells?”

Derek was quick to shake his head and clarify. “I wasn’t running from her. She wasn’t trying to hurt me or anything. She’d said something about showing me that I… That…” He hesitated and looked at his older self. “She said that the hollowness I feel will someday overflow with love.”

Older Derek blinked at him and frowned, looking completely thrown by the comment. Derek felt his heart sink. The dryad had been wrong after all, then.

“You’re seeing someone, Derek?” Stiles asked the older version, shoulders tense in emulated nonchalance. “I mean, good for you getting back out there and everything.”

Derek watched closely as his older self looked away from Stiles and seemed to desperately want to just walk away from all of them. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

Stiles’ shoulders sagged, and Derek could scent a strange sadness from him. “But there’s gotta be someone you’re in love with,” he insisted. “Otherwise, the dryad wouldn’t have sent your younger self to this point in time.”

“Maybe her aim was off,” Older Derek snapped back. He seemed to regret his words and tone the moment he saw Stiles shift away from him. After a deep sigh, he spoke again with a gentler tone. “He can stay here with me until we figure out how to get him back.”

“Figured as much,” said Stiles, some of his smile returning. “I know my dad sure as shit wouldn’t let him stay at _my_ place. Not after our interesting little chat a few months back when he found my stash of porn mags and noticed there were just as many men as women.”

Older Derek looked stunned for a second, eyebrows doing a weird little jumpy-dance that had Derek wondering if he always looked so ridiculous when he was confused. “Wait, what?” asked Older Derek, turning to watch as Stiles walked away and towards the door.

“C’mon, Scott. Let’s find Lydia and work on sending Little Derek back home.”

“I’m not little,” Derek grumbled, crossing his arms with a scowl. 

Stiles stopped in front of him and smiled, reaching up to compare their heights with his hand. “You’re actually about an inch or so shorter than I, dude, which is the opposite of how things usually are. Thus, out of the two Dereks, you are the little one.” Then he winked with a smirk that made Derek’s dead, shriveled heart pulse hot and alive. “Don’t worry; I’m not implying you’re little in any of the important ways.” 

Scott was grabbing Stiles by the shoulder and pulling him out of the loft, laughing at his friend and assuring both Dereks that they’d get it all sorted. Once the heavy door was slid shut and the elevator whirring loudly, Derek turned to face his older self. “Is it him?” he asked, his heart still pounding out an excited beat. He really hoped it was Stiles.

Instead of answering him, Older Derek just turned and headed towards the spiral staircase. “I’m going to make up the guest bed.”

\----

Stiles was at his locker switching out his Chemistry book for his Brit Lit one when he sensed a familiar stare boring into his back. Slowly turning around, he expected to find Derek being the creeper he was and standing in the middle of the high school hallway with a leather jacket and beard no teenager would sport. Instead, he found...Derek. Looking like he completely belonged there, in jeans and a non-descript shirt. No beard or intimidating muscles. Not even a scowl. 

“What’s your next class?” Little Derek asked, stepping up to lean against the lockers beside Stiles now that his presence was revealed. 

Holding up the book, Stiles said weakly, “British Literature.”

Little Derek wrinkled his nose, and Stiles stared in fascination, wondering how that expression would look on the Derek that he knew. “You’re AP, aren’t you?” Little Derek asked. “Laura had that class, too. I’m supposed to take it next year, if I keep my grades up this year.” Then he seemed to realize something, and his entire demeanor wilted, eyes darkening with pain and grief. “Or, at least...that’s what was _supposed_ to happen. Laura wants to move to New York, get us as far from here as possible.”

“You’re a junior,” Stiles said instead of even trying to touch the hornets nest of a subject the Hale fire presented. 

“Yeah,” replied Little Derek with a nod, some of the darkness seeping away as he refocused on Stiles. “You’re a senior?”

Stiles nodded back, closing his locker but making no move to head to his next class. “What do you think of your future self?”

Little Derek did the nose scrunchy thing again and shook his head. “I’m not sure. He seems nice enough. He answered most of my questions last night, after you guys left. Told me a little about the new pack, and about how it took a while but you all started to trust each other and become something like a family.”

Smiling softly, Stiles tried to imagine Derek saying those words. Would his eyes crinkle at the corners in a subtle smile, pride and happiness woven stealthily into his voice. Little Derek was staring at him oddly again, so Stiles schooled his expression and cleared his throat. “What questions didn’t he answer? Maybe I can help.”

“Well,” said Little Derek, “he kept skirting around the subject of whether or not he’s in love, and if so with whom.”

Stiles’ spine stiffened, and he suddenly really wanted to go to class. He started walking down the hall, trying not to resent Little Derek’s dogged presence at his side. “Can’t help you there, man. Far as I know, Derek doesn’t do relationships. Not anymore.”

“Because of Kate?” Little Derek asked softly, voice brittle and teetering between bitter and broken. 

“Her,” conceded Stiles with a sideways nod of his head. “And another woman like her about a year or so ago.”

Little Derek made a low, disbelieving sound. “I can’t imagine I’d fall for someone like Kate again.”

“There might have been some sacrificial magic hoodoo going on to influence the decision,” Stiles explained, old anger simmering deep in his tone. 

“I think he’s in love for real this time,” Little Derek asserted firmly, and the surety had Stiles stumbling. 

He whipped around to gape at Little Derek, then pressed his lips together and glared. Instead of looking cowed, Little Derek was glancing around the hall before tugging Stiles into an empty classroom and quietly closing the door. 

“Look,” Little Derek whispered, moving close into Stiles’ personal space to be heard, “no one knows me better than myself, right? The me standing right here is still feeling the wounds of Kate and her actions. Trust me, the thought of trying to love someone and be vulnerable with them like that again scares the shit out of me. But…” His gaze flicked across Stiles’ face, pausing overly long on his lips before meeting his eyes. “I think the dryad was right.”

“What are you even talking about?” Stiles hissed. One part of him was reading everything in a way that made him damnably hopeful. Another part of him was bracing for the inevitable pain. 

“I could only ever try to be like that again with someone I _know_ I can trust,” explained Little Derek. “And there was one person Older Me talked about trusting more than anyone else.” He shifted even closer, eyes once again flicking down to Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles stepped back, dropping his gaze. “I’m going to be late for class.”

“Right,” Little Derek said flatly. “Sorry for keeping you.”

Stiles practically fled.

\----

He sat down next to Stiles on the bench during lacrosse practice and ignored the resultant scowl. “Why aren’t you out there playing?”

“I’m resting. First string practices first, takes a break, then goes again.” Stiles scrubbed at his sweat-damp hair and sighed. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s boring at the loft,” Derek said with a shrug. “So, you’re first string?”

Stiles nodded but didn’t look at him, instead looking out around the edge of the field. Finally his wandering gaze stopped, and a hint of a smile curled his lips. “A pair of creepers, I fucking swear,” he muttered affectionately.

Derek followed his line of sight to see his older self lurking near the bleachers on the opposite side of the field. “Does he come to watch you practice often?”

Instead of answering, Stiles stood up and slipped back on his helmet. “Whatever you think you know, you’re wrong,” Stiles said in a low, dangerous voice. “Maybe instead you should focus on getting home.”

But this was so much better than anything that faced him back in his time. Back there all that awaited him were funerals and ash and pain. Here, he could forget all of that, swept up in watching himself be cautiously happy and secretly in love. If everything he’d been told was true, then he’d finally found someone it was safe to love, because there was no risk of getting used and manipulated. This was someone who would always stand at his side, always try to save and protect him. 

He watched Stiles practice, admired his movements and strength, and grinned. It was like a bonus that he evidently falls in love with someone super attractive. “What do you like best?” he casually asked his older self, knowing he’d be heard. “Personally, I like his smirk and ass.”

“His eyes. When the light strikes them just right, they look beta gold.” Derek was surprised that his older self actually answered. He leaned forward on the bench and stared across the way at himself. 

\----

Stiles only half listened to Lydia’s lecture on quantum theories, his attention slipping towards Derek sitting across the room and appearing to be completely absorbed in the topic. Despite his better judgement, he couldn’t help thinking about what Little Derek had tried to imply earlier that day. After all, Little Derek was right about knowing himself better than anyone. So maybe he was right about this. Maybe Derek was in love. Maybe it was with--

“Stiles,” Lydia snapped. “Pay attention.” Then she was arching a brow and smirking as she glanced between Stiles and Little Derek beside him. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about wanting to send him back.”

Little Derek ducked his head and honest to god _blushed_ , and Stiles was too stunned by it fully process just how close they were sitting or that Little Derek seemed to be intentionally pressing his leg along Stiles’. As soon as his situational awareness kicked back in, Stiles scooted away from Little Derek and cleared his throat. “No, definitely on board with getting him back home. The world can’t handle two Dereks at once.” More like _Stiles_ couldn’t. 

He cast a glance over at Derek in time to witness his words get misinterpreted horribly. Derek frowned before getting up and leaving for the kitchen with an excuse of getting some water. Stiles watched him and wondered if he should follow, try to explain he hadn’t meant that more Dereks was a bad thing. Little Derek beat him to it, trailing after his older self with his eyebrows V-ed in worry. 

“I don’t think all this science stuff even matters,” Scott said from his plush armchair, as if oblivious to the drama that was unfolding in front of him. “He was sent here with magic, right? Maybe that’s how we can send him back?”

Stiles snorted. “Right. Okay. Let me just pull my magic wand out of my back pocket.”

Rolling his eyes Scott said, “Not any of _us_ , dumbass. Why don’t we track down that dryad or whatever it was, and have her send him back?”

Lydia had her contemplative face on, though, and she waved her hand at Scott in a “shush” motion. “You’re right. He was sent here by magic for a certain reason. A purpose. As soon as that’s fulfilled, he’ll probably just go back as part of the spell.”

Scott’s eyebrows rose. “So we just have to fulfill the spell?”

“I think so,” said Lydia, eyes unfocused as she thought. “What was it he said made the maybe-dryad cast the spell?”

“To prove to him that someday the hollowness inside would be overflowing with love and happiness. Or something.” Stiles stared down at his knees and tried not to look sullen.

Lydia’s eyes focused on him and she blinked. “Derek’s dating someone?”

“No.” They all turned at Derek’s voice, to see him and Little Derek standing just inside the room. “Nor will I be.” That he directed at Little Derek pointedly.

Little Derek seemed fed the fuck up with his older self. “Why not? He loves you, too!”

Suddenly Stiles felt like he was going to be sick, and he looked towards the door as he calculated his retreat. Derek’s angry voice scared him still, however. “You need to drop this,” Derek snapped at Little Derek. “I don’t even know why you keep pushing it, honestly.” Derek turned to fully face his younger self, looking so confused and frustrated, the expression eerily reflected back with younger eyes. “I remember how I felt then,” he said quietly. “The last thing on my mind was falling in love again. I couldn’t even consider it without feeling sick. But ever since you got here, you’ve been following after him like a goddamn puppy.”

“Are you jealous?” Little Derek asked, eyebrows rising. “Are you seriously jealous of yourself right now?”

“No,” Derek all but roared. “I’m confused how you could even stand to be like that about someone, so soon after--”

“You _trust_ him,” Little Derek nearly shouted back. “You trust him, so _I_ trust him, because I’m _you_. I believe you when you say he’d never intentionally hurt us--me. He smells like me, like I spend a lot of time with him. You smell like him. His scent’s all over this place, except where I know you want it most.”

“Not most,” Derek corrected halfheartedly. The fact that he didn’t deny the implication, or any of the other things Little Derek said, made Stiles’ breath choked and strained. “It’s not about that. Not entirely. But I don’t expect _you_ to understand, since you’re only able to think with your dick. To the point that it got my entire family _killed_.”

“Whoa now!” Stiles heard his voice yell, then felt his body rush across the room to put himself between the two Dereks before he could even think about what he was doing. All he knew, all he could really focus on, was the bald look of absolute devastation on Little Derek’s face. He turned a furious glare on Derek, shielding Little Derek with his body. “You need to step the fuck off. You know what it felt like, Derek. You understand how deep the wounds cut and how painful it all was. There’s no need to rub fucking glass in it, asshole.”

Behind him, Little Derek made a soft, sad sound that couldn’t quite be called a laugh. “See? He’s even protecting me from myself. You from yourself. He won’t even let _you_ hurt you.”

Derek didn’t look angry, even though Stiles had practically yelled in his face. If anything, he looked like he was about to break. It made Stiles feel a little guilty about yelling at him, and his shoulders drooped. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Derek started talking first. “It isn’t like that,” said Derek, looking over Stiles’ shoulder at his younger self. 

“Oh,” Stiles breathed out, feeling like he’d just been gut punched. “Right, no yeah.” He tried to quickly brush it off, shrugging and stepping out from between them, no longer able to face either of them. Through the deafening rush of blood pounding in his ears, he could hear Scott and Lydia slipping out through the heavy metal door. The traitors. “You can’t expect him--you--fuck this is confusing--to fall for someone just because he trusts that person. Love is more than that.”

Little Derek made a frustrated sound. “Seriously, _look_ at him,” he seemed to be saying to his older self, but Stiles didn’t look back to confirm. “He thinks you don’t want him! Which I know is bullshit. Somehow I don’t think my tastes have changed _that_ much over the years.”

“He’s in love with Lydia,” Derek snapped.

Stiles was fairly sure he literally felt his heart stop functioning for a second. Then it was working hard and fast, and he was spinning to again glare at Derek for all he was worth. “You mean to tell me,” he seethed slowly, stepping back across the scant distance he’d formed, “that you have been secretly in love with me, and were never going to tell me because you were under the false impression that I still have a crush on Lydia. Lydia Martin. The woman I helped with planning her summer trip to visit her London-based true love. The woman I’ve been considering a sister for the pasts year and a half. That Lydia Martin.”

Derek was studying his face, expression something between caution and hope. Stiles understood the feeling. “But that still doesn’t mean--”

Stiles cut him off with a kiss. Beside them, Little Derek made a triumphant sound. When they pulled apart, Stiles turned to Little Derek with a sincere little smile. “Thanks,” he said. “Without you, this idiot would probably have never let me know how he feels.”

“I might have,” objected Derek, one of his hands finding Stiles’ and giving it a little squeeze. “It was getting harder not to.”

Little Derek smiled warmly at the two of them, but Stiles could still see a hint of grief lurking in his eyes. “I was starting to fear that she’d really been wrong,” he confessed. “That the emptiness never leaves.”

Derek sobered at that, and he reached his free hand out to clasp the shoulder of his younger self. “It will take a while,” Derek explained gently. “And there will be more moments of pain and loss. Sometimes it’ll feel like there’s nothing left at all.” His hand twitched in Stiles’ then gave it another squeeze. “But then you’ll realize that you aren’t as alone as you thought. That there’s always someone there right when you think everything is hopeless. Someone who pulls you back from the brink of drowning.”

“Sometimes literally,” Stiles interjected with a cheeky grin and wink. That earned him a quiet laugh from Derek and an upgrade from hand-holding to half-hug. 

Little Derek was still smiling at them when he disappeared.

**Author's Note:**

> And then they banged or something.


End file.
